


I Met Lady Magic in a Surrey Carpark.

by literal_satanisme



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Magical Core Depletion, Metamorphmagus Harry Potter, Squibs, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 06:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20286610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literal_satanisme/pseuds/literal_satanisme
Summary: Harry is the twin brother of Charlie Potter. After surviving the Killing Curse, Harry's magical core is drained, making him appear a squib.





	I Met Lady Magic in a Surrey Carpark.

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will be rare, if at all. I'm not very good at gathering my motivation ^^;

It was surprisingly peaceful for a Halloween night- people were milling around the crowded restaurant, but there were no yells of complaint or other such problems. No flashes of lightning or crashes of thunder, just children and their families laughing, and having a good time. Lily smiled softly at the other tables.  
“One day we’ll be able to bring our boys out like this.” she says, her smile blinding as she looks into her husband’s eyes.  
Even though they loved the two little rascals, this dinner was very much needed. They were both surprised when Peter offered to take care of them- the skittish, shy man was never really the type to get along with children. He was a good friend, to help them out like this.  
James was fiddling with his collar whist he perused the menu. A peaceful night, truly.

-

Is it so wrong for Peter to feel nervous? The feeling was nauseating as he tried his best to console the two crying children he had volunteered to babysit.  
Peter raked his nails up and down his arms- should he even attempt to calm the twins down? The Dark Lord would be here any minute, and then he would never have to see Lily or James again. Childcare could be considered trivial in the face of impending events.  
Two gigantic green eyes gaze up at him, seeming to ask why he had stopped rocking the cradle.  
It was at that moment that the door flew open. The Dark Lord himself sauntered into the Potter’s living room, muttering to himself as he approached the cot.  
Peering down at the two children inside, he murmurs, “You have done well, Wormtail.”

-

Voldemort paused to examine the Potter twins. They couldn’t be more different. The larger child was bawling, his fuzzy red hair moving around his face as he shook his head back and forth. The other was almost disturbingly quiet. A dazed look of confusion graced this one’s face as it stared back at him. Green eyes and black hair, with a demeanour much like himself at that age, if the women at the orphanage were to be believed.  
Tom withdrew his wand from the pocket of his robe. As entertaining as it was to disturb Pettigrew by staring for longer than necessary, there was a prophecy to be averted. He raised his wand and loudly chanted:  
“Avada Kedavra!”

-

Godric’s Hollow was chaotic by November 1st. Local papers reported a gas explosion, the wizards on the scene, of course, knew better.   
The left side of the house had been almost entirely destroyed by a blast of energy. Luckily, all three people in the house had escaped without fatal injury.  
James had been relieved when he found that his kids were okay, Peter had staggered out of the house with the two of them in his arms, and they were alive, but barely. Peter himself was a blubbering mess.  
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean- I don’t know!” He would say; clutching at whatever hair he had left and picking at the skin on his arms. A mediwitch escorted him to St. Mungos shortly after.  
Harry and Charlie were pretty beaten up. All typical injuries from a blast of that calibre- they were both mottled with bruises. They would also need to stay in St. Mungos for a while.  
His Lily was sobbing, holding Charlie close whilst he rocked Harry back and forth.  
James clenched his fists whilst Albus explained that what happened was most likely the work of Voldemort. Why did it have to be his kids?

-

“What kind of injury causes something like this?!” Lily said frantically, soothing Charlie whilst she stared at the poor boy’s face.  
A huge, angry-looking curse scar had bloomed over the left side of Charlie’s face and neck. James was hyperventilating- he had to call Albus. He cast a patronus, instructing it to bring news to Dumbledore. The stag leapt out the open window, galloping towards Hogwarts.  
As if on cue, Harry also began to sob, clutching the left side of his face while pointing at his brother. Lily and James really had their hands full.  
-  
Within the hour, Dumbledore had arrived via the Floo. He was, as always, dressed in his ridiculous colourful robes. But surprisingly, he had the look of a man 20 years younger than himself. A soft smile spread across his face.  
“Lily, James,” he said, his smile becoming a grin, “Voldemort... is no more.”  
The two parents were frozen in shock- until they began to laugh. Years of battle, over so quickly?  
“And, amazingly, I believe it was your Charles Potter who defeated him- look at the scar on his face. I have been speaking with Mr. Pettigrew since the incident, and he told me that the Dark Lord had cast Avada Kedavra on the two boys. Charles must have protected them both, causing the explosion.”  
Charlie began to blubber at the mention of his name, reaching out to Dumbledore.  
As he picked Charlie up, he uttered, “Charles Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.”

-

Harry was not very happy. It was his fifth birthday, and according to his Mum, that meant that he’d have to go to the doctors to get a check-up. He didn’t want to go! Sirius had said that they’d stick needles in him!  
“Come on, Harry, we have to leave now.” said Lily, gently tugging at her sons arm.  
“No!”  
“Uncle Sirius promised to come over, but only if you go for the check-up.”   
Harry brightened at this, quickly making his way over to the fireplace, and flooing to St. Mungos to meet his older brother and father.  
Lily smiled fondly after him.

-

The room they were brought into was very sterile; the walls were almost blindingly white. Harry hesitated, looking around as they walked in. Charles, noticing his apprehension, held his hand.  
“Hello there!” the cheerful mediwitch said, beaming, “You’re the Potter Family, correct? Good. Okay, so today all we’re doing is a routine check-up, as in we’ll be checking magical development, immune system strength, whether the scar is healing, nutrition, that kind of thing!”  
She guided the twins over to a bench, and motioned for them to sit on it.  
The mediwitch fiddled with some devices that Harry couldn’t place.  
“When will you have to use the needles?” Harry spluttered.  
“Don’t worry darling, no needles here, only a few spells.” she said, still smiling.  
Sirius was such a liar! Harry sat gaping, while Charles giggled. She pulled out her wand, and began to cast a long, complicated spell that neither Lily nor James had ever heard in their lives.

-

“You are free to go!” the mediwitch joked, after what felt like hours, ushering the twins out the door.  
She turned towards Lily and James, “The results will be owled to your house by the time you’re home- we just need some time to sort out the data, so we can’t give them to you right now, understand?”  
They both nodded, and made their way towards the Floo with their children in tow.

-

“Uncle Padfoot!” Harry yelled, barrelling towards his godfather, “You lied! There were no needles!”  
Sirius chuckled and swung Harry around.   
Remus sat at the table with Lily, James, and Charlie, quietly muttering as they pored over the letter from St. Mungos.  
James looked up and gestured for Sirius and Harry to come over. The pair cautiously padded over. The atmosphere was very grim.  
“Harry,” James said, blankly, “you’re a squib.”

-  
Harry drug his feet as he marched towards the Dursley’s house, dreading it even though his parents, and Dumbledore, for that matter, had both agreed it was the best course of action. He knocked twice on the dark brown door of the dwelling- identical to all around it.  
A swollen, pig-like man opened the door, his wife, a stick-thin woman with a long neck stood beside him.  
“He- Hello, I’m Harry Potter, yo- your nephew. I hope you got the letter my parents sent you?”  
“We did, yes we did. Come in now, before the neighbours see you.” The giraffe-necked woman tittered.  
She guided him towards a small cupboard under the stairs, and left him alone. In all of his 5 years, Harry had never felt so empty.  
-  
Harry Dursley was a very tired-looking boy. He appeared more like a weathered man of 70 than an 8 year old schoolchild. His large green eyes were perpetually blank, and his skin was almost grey.  
Certainly, he was smart, his grades were always perfect. Straight As on every report card. Yet he never participated in class, or in anything, for that matter.  
Skinny, but not too skinny. Smart, but not too smart. Paranoid, but not too paranoid.  
He took great care to not provoke concern from others. He’d move like clockwork, repeating the same movements every day, every week, every year. Go to school, come home, do homework, eat some toast, sleep in his box bedroom, and repeat. It was only very occasionally that something would break this routine. October 19th, 1988 was one of those breaks in routine.  
-  
Surrey Arcade was a very tired-looking building. Construction had begun on the shopping centre in the late 70s. The developers had hoped to bring more people to the area, and provide for the people already living in Surrey. Unfortunately, a mysterious explosion ripped the site in half, and construction was halted, leaving the area abandoned ever since.  
Harry was running, his breathing ragged, down the sidewalk away from Dudley and his group of friends. “Harry Hunting” was an awful combination of hide-and-seek and extreme violence. If they caught him, they’d probably break both of his legs and leave him to die.  
Alright- maybe that’s a tad dramatic, but Harry wouldn’t put it past them. His runners pounded against the ground as he looked for somewhere- anywhere- he could hide.   
He spotted the entrance to Surrey Arcade and quickly tore off towards it, stumbling slightly as he began to run out of stamina.  
-  
Dudley and Piers continued to rush after Harry, both out of breath. They dashed into the construction site, running after their target, until suddenly, there was a BANG!  
They both stopped, startled- until, again, there was a BANG! This time, it was followed by a spectacular crash, as if something hit the floor.  
“Dudley,” Piers said, tapping his friend’s shoulder, “I don’t think this is safe.”  
Dudley agreed, and the two began to make their way home.  
-  
Harry, however, was still running through the construction site, thinking the two were hot on his heels. He sprinted up a ladder, hoping to hide on a higher floor until Dudley lost interest.  
The first thing he noticed as he reached the next floor, was how flimsy the floor felt under his feet. It wobbled, freezing him on the spot. Harry’s breaths became ragged as the floor buckled under his weight.  
He turned to move, to make his way back to the ladder. The section of floor beside him broke off, and fell. BANG!  
He hyperventilated, stumbling towards the exit. He was almost there... BANG! The rest of the floor broke off, and began to fall towards the bottom of the construction site at tremendous speed.  
Harry screamed as he fell through the air. He sped toward the floor, watching it get closer, and closer, until everything went black.  
-  
Harry sat up, examining his surroundings. The abandoned building site was damp and seemingly bug-infested. A roach scuttled over his leg, and he shuddered in disgust.  
Groaning, Harry attempted to get off of the ground. No luck, it seemed his body was uncooperative from the legs down. Panic gripped him- what if he was never able to move again? What if he starved to death?   
These thoughts continued to speed through his head, until there was a burst of light from the other side of the dingy, unfinished carpark. If he squinted, Harry could almost make out a figure, a lady in a white dress, walking towards him.   
She moved closer, and closer, with her arms outstretched, as if beckoning for Harry to come to her. He couldn’t, however. He was still stuck to the ground. A hand moved to rest on his shoulder.  
“Harry Potter,” she said, frowning at him, “Why are you on the floor?”  
He began to reply, but she continued, apparently not looking for an answer.  
“I am Lady Magic, and I am here because it has become apparent to me that you are sick, Harry. Sick with a magical ailment, that is.” If she had noticed Harry paling at this, she paid no heed to it. “Magical core depletion; so much that you would appear to be a squib to the untrained eye. Although normally, I would not intervene, Fate has requested that I... provide some assistance, as you are a special case.”  
Sighing, she waved her hand in Harry’s direction.   
Suddenly, he felt like he was on fire- an intense burning sensation spread outwards from his middle. Harry gasped, clutching his sides.  
“That is normal, Mr. Potter.” She soothed, “Don’t be alarmed, it will be over soon.”  
With that, she turned and left in the same flash of light that brought her there. Harry remained in agony on the floor- the light was just too much, and once again, he lost consciousness.  
-  
‘Sleeping on a concrete floor overnight was not a good idea.” Harry thought, wincing.  
The sun was beginning to creep over the horizon, bathing Surrey in a sad, greyish light. It was unfortunate that it was always cloudy.  
Harry attempted to stand up, hoping that he wouldn’t be resigned to the floor like yesterday.   
Miraculously, it seemed that he had made a recovery. He was still wobbly, but he was in no way unable to move.  
He began to stagger towards the way out, making sure to avoid the cracks in the ground.   
-  
After an hour, the Dursley’s residence was in sight. Hopefully it was before 8am, so school wouldn’t have started. Resigning himself to sitting on the porch until someone opened the door, Harry slumped.  
Until the door opened on its own.   
Eyes widening in amazement, Harry crept inside, carefully closing and locking the door behind him. He tiptoed towards the cupboard, and shut himself in. No one woke upstairs.   
It was like he had never left. Wicked.


End file.
